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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29895345">Story of Scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xx_Katastrophe/pseuds/xx_Katastrophe'>xx_Katastrophe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:54:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29895345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xx_Katastrophe/pseuds/xx_Katastrophe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel sits his daughter down and tells her a story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Story of Scars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A small sequel to my story, Amazing Grace, which you could find here. https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781751/chapters/65332861</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They say time heals all wounds, but Gabirel learns that the physical reminders will always be there. The pain may not be as strong, but it’ll always remain. In the five years since his stay in Switzerland, his life had changed for the better.  He and Nathalie were officially a couple, Adrien was attending a university nearby, and of course, Emilie had been given the proper goodbye and eternal rest she deserved. The biggest of all changes, however, was when Nathalie had gotten pregnant. Children was never a topic the two of them discussed, so when confronted with the issue, they decided they would keep the child. As a result, three years ago, they welcomed a baby girl, and named her Chantal. Gabriel, Nathalie and Adrien found themselves enamored with the little baby. Adrien loved being a big brother, and Gabriel found himself enjoying being a father to a young child again. He vowed to try harder this time around… and his efforts were proving to be effective. She loved and admired him and Nathalie profoundly and most importantly, equally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Presently, Gabriel found himself in his daughter’s room. She invited him to help her practice on her soccer skills.  It was an effective way for her to burn off her boundless energy, and he didn’t have to move too much. He couldn’t keep up with her, especially when she was practically running circles around him- really no one could. As she kicked the soccer ball again, he tried to block it, but of course, it bounced off his hand and just out of his reach. He leaned to the right to gather the football. As a result, his sleeve moved down just enough to expose his wrists. He heard a small gasp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Papa! Stop!” Chantal cried, running full speed at him. She sat down on the floor and held his wrist. “You’re hurt! Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabriel froze. He hadn’t expected her to notice the marks of his past, reminders of the past pain he experienced, and certainly didn’t expect her to ask about it. “I’m fine, my dear…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” She asked, still clutching onto him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at the carpet. How could he explain the truth to a child? He didn’t want to lie to her, but he was at least aware she wouldn’t understand all the big feelings he had experienced. He said, “Let me tell you a story…” She scooted closer to him, before eventually deciding to sit in his lap. Though sitting on his lap, she still continued to fidget, holding both of his hands and playing around with his fingers. Her focus was on his wedding band in particular, playing around with the silver and tungsten band. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath. “Many years ago, before you were born, Papa had some issues in life. I was extremely sad and lonely, and angry with life. I didn’t do a good job at expressing my emotions, and I… did something that could have been a very permanent fix to a temporary problem. I hurt myself, and people who cared about me. Your mama helped a lot, and so did your big brother, but before they could help, I had to go away for a while.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p> <span>Without missing a beat and still fully occupied by the ring, she asked, “Where did you go?” </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went to Switzerland, to a special place. A place that helps people who need help with bad thoughts and feelings. The people there helped you talk through and helped you find better ways to deal with those bad thoughts and feelings.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I went on a lot of hikes in the mountains, drew a lot of pictures, played many songs, and, thanks to your mother, read her favorite book.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s cool…” She replied, now starting to squirm a bit. Playing with the ring was now boring, but she grabbed her ball and began to play with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I think so too… You actually got one of your names from that book.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Should I tell you the origins of your name?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She eagerly turned to face him, grinning up at him. “Yes, Papa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what your entire name is?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chantal Nicole… Zoe Marie Agreste?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her, and ran a finger through her messy blonde ponytail,l in an attempt to fix it. “That’s right. Well, Nicole is the name of the doctor that helped Papa so much… Dr. Nicole Zigeler. And Zoe… after the book’s main female protagonist- the french version of Zoya.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...What about Chantal and Marie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, we just liked those names.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a completely unexpected turn of events, Chantal grabbed one of his hands with both of hers. She brought her face close to his wrists, gently kissing the scar on his wrist. She repeated it with the other wrist as well. Gabriel smiled. “Did that make it better? Kisses make my ouchies better.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was surprised by the kind gesture. “Well… of course it did, dear. That was sweet of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to be sad, Papa…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, my darling… Papa isn’t sad anymore.” Which wasn’t entirely true, however. He had his cloudy days, and then his stormy days… but after the storm, there was always the sunshine. The love and light from his wife and two sunshine children. He knew he could always count on them to pick him up when he was down, and being there for them is what drives him forward now. He pulled his daughter into a hug, holding her close. Her tiny arms wrapped around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay… good. I love you, Papa.” She said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, sunshine.” He mumbled. “Listen, if you ever feel sad about something… come and tell me. It’s okay to ask for help if you need it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled away from him, wiggling out of his arms. “Okay Papa. Can we play now?” She picked up her soccer ball. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, dear.” He responded. She took off to the opposite side of her room, dribbling her soccer ball between her feet. He had just hoped that she paid attention to his story, and the broader meaning. He never wants her to feel alone- no one should suffer as he had. </span>
</p>
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